Fire

“I want you to be inside me. I want you to make love to me.”

His face mirrored his surprise. He cupped my cheek in his palm. “Sam, you don’t have to do this. It’s no big deal that you were a little quick on the draw.”

He saw me blush and he laughed and apologized. “Max, I’ve never done it before.” I looked in his eyes and put all the earnestness I could into it. “Jake and I talked about it, but we never got around to it. I’ve wanted to, but I never trusted anyone I was with. But I completely trust you. I love you. Please.”

His eyes were tearing up but he nodded. He skimmed his hands over my back. I felt goose bumps spring up where his hands had trailed. He moved over me, lying on my back, letting his hairiness caress my back. He stuck his knees between mine and forced my legs apart. I kept thinking he was going to ram it in. He was still rock hard. I tensed. He kissed the back of my neck and told me to relax. He moved down me, skimming his hands and lips over my back. He kept moving lower and lower. When he got down to my ass, he kept massaging the globes, separating and rubbing the cheeks. His hands kept going in circles, moving closer and closer to my crack. Finally, one of his hands brushed through my cleft. I moaned. His fingers started exploring, teasing the hair and moving it, parting it. Then I felt him kiss the left cheek. His mouth kept skimming over my ass and moved to my crack. When he reached the soft flesh, his tongue touched me. I jumped. Electricity flowed from his touch to me. He moved lower and lower getting closer and closer to my hole. I felt him kiss the skin around the hole then touched it with his tongue. I felt myself clench. Then I forced myself to relax. Then he started using his tongue. He moved over me over and over. He lapped me and swirled around me. I felt myself start opening. Then he stabbed me with his tongue. I was rock hard. Oh god! Why did I ever not do this? Jesus! Oh god! He kept moving his tongue in and out of my ring. I begged him not to stop. I know I was whimpering into the pillow. I actually bit it to keep from crying out. Then he pulled his tongue away.

I lifted up in protest. But he pushed me back down. He blew cool air over the wet skin. I shivered. Then he huffed warm air over me. I moaned. Then I felt him place a finger against me. It pushed right in, to the knuckle. It sort of burned, it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was different. Then he hit something. I felt a tingle hit me. I actually felt my cock release a large drop of pre-cum. Then a second finger joined the first. The tingle got stronger. Then a third finger joined in. He kept moving the three in and out, twisting and turning. I knew he was trying to open me, getting me ready. This was easy. I was no longer nervous and I told him.

“That’s good baby. But I need you begging.” He lowered to my ear and whispered huskily into it. “I need you to be on edge. I want you so hot that you cum just from my fingers.” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth; it sent shivers through my whole body. “Then I’m going to love you and fuck you until you cum, at least twice.”

He kissed my shoulder. Then told me he was hoping to make me cum three times. It was too much, the suggestive talk, the fingers, the anticipation. I shot, over and over right into my sheets. I cried out and moaned. With his fingers there, I felt how I clamped and clutched when I came. Now I knew what I was feeling from the other side. Oh God! I am a fool for never doing this before. Then as I calmed my breathing, feeling Max climb up me, ready, I knew I didn’t want this with anyone else. This is special and I only want to share it with him.

Then I felt him at my opening. He teased me, brushing the dripping head back and forth over my hole. I felt myself push back on him. I wanted him to be inside. But he only brushed me with it, back and forth. I was moaning, whimpering, begging. Then he flipped me over. I looked in his eyes. I thought he was teasing. He wasn’t. His face was taut with the control he was enforcing. His eyes were glassy and he was on edge. I wanted to touch him. I reached to clasp his face and he pulled back. Then he grabbed my hips, pushed my knees forward and pushed into me. I felt my eyes roll up into the back of my head. I felt full, but not bad. I stretched around him, accepting, begging for more. He rocked into me slowly, scooting forward by scant millimeters. It seemed a lifetime of sizzling, electrifying sensations before he was in me completely. I felt his testicles brush my ass; I felt his pubic hair meshing with the hair under my balls. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He had his eyes shut and his jaw clenched, holding back. He stayed in place and I didn’t move, at least not intentionally. But I felt my sphincter relax around him and my body tried to pull him in, seating him, milking him. He groaned loudly before pulling back. Then I breathed out in a gasp when he pushed back into me. He brushed something inside me and I got even harder. I felt my cock brush in the hair on my belly, moving subtly by my heartbeat and then harder with his gentle thrusting. Max pushed on my legs so he could lower to me. I moved them to the side so I could wrap them around him; so I could pull him to me, hold him tighter. His chest brushed mine, I arched my back to him; I wanted our bodies to touch. I now understood so much that I had observed from the other side. I was building, I was growing, oh god! I felt the tingles grow more severe, I felt myself climb to orgasm. I knew it was going to happen. He kept brushing my prostate, each stroke made my testicles rise higher. I felt my stomach clench, pulling my thighs and causing my cock to stiffen. He brushed it once, twice and I exploded. I screamed out in ecstasy. Each single spasm got a bellow from deep inside. I felt cum hit my chest, my stomach and I watched it hit and cling to the hair on Max’s chest. He still kept thrusting; I was spent. Drained. Then he hit my trigger again.

My cock refused to go down. The sensations this time was less intense but longer lasting. I was building again, but slowly. I felt him speed up a little; his thrusting became shorter so he hit my prostate faster and harder. It was going to happen again, I was going to cum. I looked up at him and saw glossy eyes, tight cheeks and a rosy, passionate flush. He was on a mission, focused on our pleasure. He was bucking and arching into me. He was close. I pulled him towards me, fusing our bellies together. I had had the brushing of my hairy belly caress my cock, now I had it wedged between two, sweaty bellies, grinding the head and stroking my shaft in sweaty, lubricated motions. I was now building by two means. It was too much. Ten, eleven thrusts later and I was shooting again. I watched, this time it was less solid, more fluidic, spraying farther onto my face and shoulders. I know I clamped him, pulling him, milking him. He started getting jerky in his thrusts. I felt Max tighten. He pulled out partially so the tip of his cock was against my prostate; he nudged up over and over, pushing the flared tip against that bead of nerve endings. I started crying out, whimpering. I had never known such pleasure, such rare bliss. Then he cried out over me. I saw the cords on his neck stand out. He called out my name and kept chanting it with each pulse of his release. Inside me, I felt each spurt hit against my prostate, each twitch of his cock’s release flexed my ring and chaffed my channel. He did it, I don’t know how, but I came again, just a couple of minutes after the last time. I cried out my love for Max. I was so spent, so tired and so very, very sated.

Max collapsed on top of me. I was so gone I couldn’t even wrap my arms around him. I thought we were going to need an oxygen tank just to catch our breath. Each beat of my heart had my cock twitch in aftershocks. Each of my twitches caused Max to groan. I felt my heart slow. I could no longer feel his pound against mine. I still couldn’t move my arms but I could nuzzle his neck and cheek with my nose. He moved his nose and nuzzled me. It wasn’t much, but it worked, we were connecting and touching. Slowly, very slowly, we started to kiss, to search and meet with lips and tongue. We were coated in my essence, our sweat. When we could move again, about twenty minutes after, I took him to the bathroom. We crawled into the tub and all we did was soak in the warm, sudsy water. I traced each muscle and curve with a soapy sponge. He returned the favor. It wasn’t sexual so much as sensual.

After the water revived us, we drained the tub and dried each other off. We kept grinning at each other. Max kept asking if I was okay. I couldn’t stop laughing. I told him I almost didn’t make it; it was too good. We walked back into my room. Max sat down and scooted himself onto the bed. He sat cross-legged and I was heading over to him. But I tripped on my pants, and then I remembered. I knelt down and got the surprise out of the pocket.

I sat down and faced Max, sitting just like him so our knees met. I took the box. The morning I left Bill at the hospital, after seeing that symbol of love, I wanted the same for us. Legally we couldn’t bind ourselves, but this moment was perfect. I opened the box in front of him. Inside were two gold bands, thick and shiny. Max looked down at them in surprise. I took out the one that would fit me and placed it in his hand. Then I took the one that was for him and took his left hand. I looked straight in his eyes. I put all the solemnity and love I could into my eyes, let down all the walls so he could see the truth in what I was about to do. As I pushed the ring onto his finger, I told him:

“With this ring, I thee wed. With my body I thee worship and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” I had to swallow, my throat thick with tears. “I take thee in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer. Forsaking all others until death us do part.”

My voice cracked towards the end. I had stood up for my brother and a few friends when they spoke their vows. I had always found them so very perfect. I never thought I would get to say them, but I did. Now I waited for Max to return them. I looked in his eyes and let his hand go. It was now his call. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he took my hand and I finally exhaled. He pushed the ring on my finger. His voice was hoarse as he spoke to me. But my heart filled with each word. I didn’t realize that a tear or two had leaked out until he wiped them away. We started kissing, which led to making love; me in him, him in me, over and over and day after day, year after year. Our bond grew stronger and stronger as did our love.

Two years later, at the bar, we celebrated the commander’s retirement and Bill’s promotion to his spot. Bill’s wife was there, round and pregnant, happy to be expecting number nine; both of them grinning ear to ear, always touching. I sat on a barstool, with Max standing in front of me. My arms wrapped around him. I couldn’t stop touching him or him me and when he had to go to the bar or the kitchen, I still knew where he was, even without turning my head. And when he returned, there was always a gentle kiss; a light touch, even just my hand on his shoulder or his hand on my leg was enough. But each touch cemented us. Somehow we found that contentment that only those blessed with a true and abiding love find.